Forehead
by TheTruthAboutThe WallFlower
Summary: AU/ They were complete strangers, meeting by a chance of fate. God she really could not wait until the day Tsunade's tits started to sag. It would be a glorious day, she would make sure of it.
Sakura sat quivering, the cold night air sharp and brutal on her exposed alabaster skin. She sat on the sidewalk, the school gates large and ominous, and most prominently, _closed_ behind her.

The seventeen year old huffed and cursed under her breath in a loose string of profanity, cussing at herself and her mother and her mother's gambling addiction. If it wasn't for that then maybe she wouldn't be freezing her ass off on the steps of her school hours after cheerleading practice.

All she wore was her uniform, a skimpy green and gold leaf spangled micro skirt and matching crop top. The bloomers she wore underneath her ridiculously short skirt, mind you she hated it with a passion, didn't stop the smooth, exposed skin on her rear from becoming ice cold.

The one day she forgot to bring clothes to change into after practice. The one day she had to stay longer than the other girls to go print flyers for their next stupid fucking tournament, the one day her stupid drunk ass foster mother decided to head down to the casino with her stupid, pervy foster step-dad and get so pissed she was being charged for public indecency.

"Honestly Tsunade…" Sakura growled to herself, her bright green eyes sharp. She brought up lithe fingers to press against the ever-present headache blooming in the center of her slightly too wide forehead. She clenched her ice cold fingers together into a fist before biting down harshly on her knuckles.

"And that fucking Jiraiya…" Sakura mumbled darkly, glaring intently at a lock of her long, bright bubble-gum pink hair. "He knows fucking better then to take her to a fucking casino, where you can drink fucking beer, the fucking dumbass."

She continued uttering the curses to herself, knowing no one was around to hear her and that if anyone was lurking she would give them a polite right hook, the one Tsunade had taught her when she started to grow boobs. It had come in handy many times in the past.

But now it was dark, her phone had gone dead and she was extra pissed that it had cut out before she could chew out Jiraiya about sending her only a brief text saying 'Your mother is in jail. I'll pick you up as soon as I get this sorted! Love you ;)'

Goddammit what she would do to bash her so-called parent's heads in together. They were a pair of idiots. She would have gotten a flogging times a thousand if Tsunade had heard even one of her muttered rants, but the cheerleader knew sure as fuck that she would sucker punch the old hag right back.

Sakura grinned maliciously to herself. One day, she thought, that witch would be old and fragile and Sakura knew sure as fuck she would be giving her the biggest shit eating grin she could muster and she would say, oh she would definitely say it, "What's up with the saggy tits Tsunade huh?"

"What?"

Sakura gasped and stood up, turning around and only just managing to not trip over the step she'd been sitting on. Behind her a man, well, upon closer inspection, more like a teenager, stood merely a metre away, a black leather jacket snuggly fit around the fit looking hottie.

And he was a hottie. Sakura felt a blush coming to her face as she observed the teenagers appearance. He had spiky, black moonlit hair and a chiseled jaw, black obsidian eyes staring at her with amusement. One of his perfectly shaped brows (Sakura absently thought of her own, in need of a good plucking) were raised in question and his lips, oh his lips…They were curved in a perfect smirk.

It was then Sakura realised she was gaping, and she clicked her jaw shut, her blush intensifying as she realised what he must have overheard. "A-a-ah, ahhhmm, well-"

Before she could continue to dig her grave deeper, a sharp gust of wind rippled the air around them and Sakura cut herself off with a gasp, bringing her slender arms up to hug her warmth to her. "Shit its cold…" she mumbled fiercely under her breath, teeth clenched.

She didn't even hear any footsteps, but next thing she knew, a large, warm palm was pushing her hair out of her face and resting against her freezing, too-big forehead. "Are you sick?" the stranger muttered in a smooth, velvety voice, a crease between his brows appearing.

Sakura stammered out a quick no, blushing profusely and swiftly pulling her arms down to yank her skirt lower in hopes of appearing more modest. She must look like a skank, Sakura thought bitterly.

Too soon, the teenager withdrew his hand. Sakura refused to look up at him or say a word, even as he prodded at her why she was standing in the freezing cold in her cheerleading uniform. She had to look up however, when a warm weight weighed down her shoulders.

Sakura immediately recognised it as the leather jacket the obsidian eyed man had been wearing. She pulled it closer to her body, relishing in its warmth and suddenly feeling woozy from its scent.

It was then, however that her stupid fucking foster mother and her spouse decide to honk their cars horn obnoxiously loud right next to them. Sakura's mind went straight back to the glorious day where Tsunade's tits would sag, her face becoming violent and stormy and, unbeknownst to her, pouty and adorable.

"You gonna be okay?" the velvet voice asked.

Sakura sneaked a quick look into his onyx eyes, sincere even in the small smirk gracing his porcelain skin. "Yes, unfortunately." She muttered, shooting a dark look at her family waiting on the curb.

She began to take his jacket off, grumpy and irritated. But the fellow teenager merely smirked arrogantly at her and pushed it back on her shoulders. "You won't be able to give my jacket back to me if you don't have my number."

Sakura's emerald orbs lit up. But then they suddenly dead panned. Of all fucking days for her phone to go flat. Right as she opened her mouth to tell him this, she felt something none too light thwack her in the back her head.

Turning back with a vicious gleam in her eye, Sakura opened her mouth to yell at her foster mother who'd no doubt thrown the offending object. But Tsunade's smirk and the way she looked so smug in the passenger seat, still drunk, made Sakura narrow her eyes first and glance down, blinking in surprise at the notepad and pen she found.

The pinkette picked them up, almost reluctantly, and turned back around to face an amused grin. "Does she always throw stationery at you?" he snickered.

Sakura pursed her lips and gave him a dark look and shoved the utensils at him. "Shut up and write lover boy."

He smirked at that, pressing the notepad in her hands and reaching out to her to cradle the back of her head. Sakura almost started hyperventilating. But then she felt it. Her eyes flared in outrage and she sucked in a breath to tell him what for, in the end just snarling wickedly at him as he gave her that frustrating smirk.

She turned around and stomped to the car, yanking the door open. Tsunade only had the briefest of glimpses before she was howling with laughter. "I'll make sure she calls _you!"_ the caretaker slurred out the window to the man left standing. He just nodded and tipped his head in her direction with that cocky, arrogant, sexy smirk.

Sakura could think of only one thing.

The fucking bastard had written his number on her fucking forehead.


End file.
